


Saintroux/Zhenyabest Kinktober 2018

by saintroux



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Begging, Cock Worship, Foot Fetish, Lapdance, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Non-Penetrative Sex, PWP, Rule 63, sweaty sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16496939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintroux/pseuds/saintroux
Summary: Zhenyabest did a Kinktober kink-per-day challenge this October-- here are all of the ficlets I wrote for it, each one titled with its theme/pairing. Most are Sid/Geno with one Sid/Geno/Anna thrown in!





	1. Begging - Sid/Geno

“I need–“ Zhenya said, squirming around under the thick covering of Sid’s body. Up above the bed, the fan was running full blast, but Zhenya was burning up, his chest blotchy, wrists sweaty in their cuffs.

“C’mon, tell me,” Sid said, breath puffing like hot kettle steam in the gap between their open mouths.

“I need you to—“ Zhenya started. Sid’s thumb was pressed to the thin skin of his forearm, stroking him, soothing him, but he couldn’t. “I need you to touch me, I want you to just—I want you to tie my legs open to match and touch me all over and not stop.” He was embarrassed to admit how close he was, dick drooling all over his stomach like a teenager just from Sid holding him down, and kissing him and kissing him. The cool click of the cuffs holding him to the bed, the warm wet slick of Sid’s tongue against his throat. 

“In English this time, eh?” Sid teased, and ground his own hips down into Zhenya’s, his dick fat and sticky against Zhenya’s hip, and the friction was so much, it was too much, and Zhenya was going to—

“Touch me,” Zhenya said, and squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to think of the worst and most unsexy things: his neighbor’s rotting trash, the terribly sour odor of fermenting bread, the smokey cough he always developed when he went home to Magnitogorsk. Anything to get his mind off of his sore arms trussed up to the bed posts and Sid on him and around him, finally back in his bed after three long months. “Please.”

Sid reached a hand down between their bodies and wrapped it tight around Zhenya’s dick.

“This how you wanted me to touch you?” Sid asked, and began jacking him in earnest, slick and noisy, sliding his palm through the precome that was smeared across the head. God, he really wasn’t going to last. 

Zhenya chanced a glance up at him, his brow furrowed up in concentration, the thick hair at the front of his head dripping a little onto Zhenya’s chest. It felt a little like the first time: Sid above him on the mats in the training room, scrabbling after him and wrapping two firm, sweaty hands around Zhenya’s lax wrists.

They’d just rutted together then, clumsy and hurried, Sid’s grip growing harder and more confident as Zhenya struggled and groaned and came so fucking hard he thought he might black out. And then they’d done it again, and again: against the wall in the shower, Zhenya’s arms tied to the hotel headboard with Sid’s game day tie.

“Fuck me,” Zhenya choked out. Sid’s hand was slick with spit and precome, stripping Zhenya ruthlessly, too good, and he wanted to come on Sid’s dick instead, grinding down against him, their skin slapping together the way he always liked. “Come on, Sid.”

Sid’s face was so close, and he leaned down to kiss Zhenya, wet and dirty, pulling Zhenya’s lip away with his teeth, and Zhenya thought he might pull back and take his hand away and finally fucking put it in. But he just pulled up a little, enough that Zhenya could see his crooked mouth and nose, his dark, smiling eyes.

“Maybe later,” he said.

Zhenya threw his head back and groaned.


	2. Mirror Sex - Sid/Geno

“C’mere, sit down,” Sid said, patting an open hand against his thigh, and smiling at Zhenya, with all of his perfectly manicured fake teeth. He was spread out in the lounge chair just like he sat in his stall, sprawled wide in his briefs. Like this, Zhenya thought he looked not unlike a king. 

“Look,” Zhenya said, dropping down into Sid’s lap, a hand on his chin to guide his gaze over to the mirror hanging on the far wall, some ornate thing that had come with the house and that Zhenya had never thought to take down. It seemed useful, at least, now–their reflections posed in the glass, staring back at them.

Sid loved to get Zhenya into his lap, and Zhenya always felt a little silly doing it, his long legs ungainly, folded up like a bird’s in the small space left on the cushion, feet hanging awkwardly in the air. But in the mirror they looked–they looked good, better than good. Sid’s hand sliding up the cool, bare skin of his waist. Zhenya bent over him, the strong, thick line of Sid’s profile looking up on him from below. When Zhenya looked back at him, his face right here in the flesh, his eyes were dark and considering. 

“You like,” Zhenya said, smirking, running a hand down Sid’s jaw, to his neck, to his chest, scraping his nails a little. 

Sid just grinned, open and unashamed. “So what if I do?” he asked.

Zhenya tweaked his fingers over Sid’s nipple and delighted in the high, punchy sound he made in response. “You like. Lots,” Zhenya said. And maybe he would file this away for later, some ammunition to use. Maybe Sid was into watching their bodies in other ways.

Or maybe Zhenya could, at the very least, convince him.


	3. Foot Fetish - Sid/Geno

“Let me have,” Zhenya said, reaching his arms out for the remote. Sid had been flipping through channels for probably the past ten minutes, and had settled on both some odd home improvement show, as well as a weird old movie that Zhenya couldn’t possibly follow, before changing his mind. Ever since the doctor had granted him screen privileges back, he’d been insufferable. He never wanted to watch anything, but he wanted the television on. Zhenya needed to stage an intervention.

“I was gonna find something,” Sid complained, but he handed the remote over anyway, and ceded to Zhenya when he landed on basketball and left it there. 

“Sports,” Zhenya said. “You like.”

“Basketball isn’t really my thing,” Sid said, and scooted around in his seat, trying to get comfortable. They were seated at opposite ends of the couch, Zhenya with his leg propped up on a pillow. He’d been off crutches for a week, now, and was back to doing light workouts, but he wished for a moment that he was well enough to climb over there and plop down on Sid until he just sat fucking still. He was always moving around; it drove Zhenya nuts. 

“Stay still,” Zhenya said, after he’d had enough. “You watch, learn to like.” He propped his good leg up as well, and scooted forward until both of his feet were cushioned on Sid’s thighs, the heavy weight of them leaving him frozen. 

Zhenya watched the game for a while, head propped up on his palm, rolling his ankles around in Sid’s lap to crack the joints. Sid was uncharacteristically silent–the space he usually filled with dull chatter filled only with air, and at first Zhenya thought maybe it was only his disinterest, but when he glanced over, Sid looked stoic and tense, his cheeks bright red even in the blue glare of the screen. 

Zhenya stretched his bad knee out gingerly and rolled his feet again. “Um,” Sid said, and dropped one hand to rest tentatively on the top of Zhenya’s foot. “Could you, uh–” When Zhenya turned his full attention, he could see awkwardness leaking from him, bubbling around him like a cloud. “Could you stop that?”

He was about to ask why, when he felt it: Sid’s dick plumping up under his toes, half hard in his basketball shorts. Well. 

“Why I have to?” Zhenya asked, and shifted around experimentally until the line of Sid’s dick was under the arch of his foot, kneading a little with his toes curled inward and watching the blush spread down into the collar of Sid’s shirt. 

“I, uh–” Sid said, and went quiet again and fisted his hands in the couch cushion, tense and turned on. 

“Maybe I don’t stop,” Zhenya said, and rubbed harder, sliding his feet around until Sid was all the way hard, deliciously thick under Zhenya’s feet and visible to his eye. They’d only been sleeping together for a couple of weeks; furtive handjobs in the bathtub, Sid going down on his knees for Zhenya, propped up in the recliner at his house. Being out on IR sucked, and the possibility of surgery loomed large, but Sid was a welcome distraction, and Zhenya delighted in peeling away the layers of what made him tick. 

“Maybe,” Sid said, his voice strained, like his whole body was held taut. Zhenya could see that he was trying not to embarrass himself, but it wasn’t embarrassing, and Zhenya wanted him to.

“Maybe you take shorts off,” Zhenya said, and grinned a little. Maybe he couldn’t do everything yet, not nearly as much as he wanted to, with his bum knee–but certainly he could do this.


	4. Cock Worship - Sid/Geno

Zhenya liked to pretend that he wasn’t the kind of guy who got really into the salty smell of a man just post practice, but he really, really was, and the beginning of every season was the worst of it. He’d been away from Sid for a whole too-long summer, tortured by a handful of half-blurry gym selfies and the sleepy sound of Sid’s voice through his computer speakers, and when Sid stripped down bare in the locker room after the first official training camp skate, Zhenya had to resist the urge to walk over and drop immediately to his knees.

“Nice slapper,” Sid said to him, walking by his stall while he was sliding his leggings down, placing a warm sweaty hand on his shoulder. When Zhenya looked up, he was still naked as anything, his chest splotchy red from exertion, his soft dick hanging thick between his thighs. “You were really going for it in drills today, eh.”

Zhenya thought he might just walk on by, off to the showers to wash off the funk. He’d probably send a text to Zhenya later and Zhenya would obediently come over to Sid’s house and let him cook dinner and suck him off on the couch like always. Instead, Sid plopped down next to him on the bench, his bare ass on the wood. 

“Thanks,” Zhenya said, and swallowed. Zhenya wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Sid had to know what he was doing, he knew how Zhenya felt. 

“You don’t have to stop on my behalf,” Sid said, quiet, patting Zhenya’s knee where his leggings were still only half down. Zhenya looked up at him to see him smiling, crooked and smug, blatantly watching as Zhenya got down to his underwear. Well.

He heard a door click and flinched, but when he glanced around, it was just Sheahan, the last of the guys who had lingered, walking off into the showers. 

The room empty, Sid caught Zhenya’s gaze and readjusted himself, sprawling his legs out until his knee knocked into Zhenya’s thigh, leaving a space big enough for Zhenya to fit.

Zhenya shucked his leggings off and over his ankles, and then scrambled to the floor, desperate for it suddenly, pressing his face into Sid’s lap, his nose smashed up against the wiry mat of Sid’s public hair. He put a hand on Sid’s hardening dick, and looked up to find Sid gazing down on him, eyes dark, mouth open and breathing heavy. 

There had been a time where Zhenya had been embarrassed by how much he loved to suck Sid’s dick, but it had been years since then, and now he relished in it, licking around the base, opening his mouth wide over the round head. When he dipped his tongue in between the foreskin and the curve of the head, Sid sunk his hands down into Zhenya’s hair and groaned. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Sid said, when Zhenya looked up and caught his eye. 

Zhenya didn’t think about their teammates, just beyond the change room doorway, or the sore pang of his knee on the hard locker room floor. All he thought about was the heady taste of Sid hot and hard on his tongue, and he smiled around the mouthful and nodded and went back down.


	5. Lingerie Kink - Sid/Geno Rule 63

“Open your eye,” Geno said, hovering there above Sidney, knees bracketing her thighs. Sidney knew that she couldn’t, that if she opened her eyes she might crumble to actual ash under Geno’s body. Maybe she would just melt into the bed, and they had a game tomorrow, a big game, and she couldn’t. 

She could feel the scrubby edge of lace under her thumb on Geno’s hip, where Geno had placed her hands. She felt stupid for being so into this, it was so tacky, and she’d seen Geno naked many more times than she could count and she still–

“Sid?” Geno asked, and pressed a sloppy kiss to Sidney’s neck and rolled off of her, folding up next to her shoulder on the bed.

Sidney opened her eyes and sat up, feeling embarrassed and turned on, looking at Geno curled in on herself on the mess of pillows, her knees covered in purple bruises, her toes a shocking neon pink. “Sorry, I–” Sidney said, putting her hand on Geno’s arm, running down over the goosebumps. It was cold in the room, the a/c on at full blast, and if Sidney looked down, her own nipples would probably be glaringly hard under her thin tank. 

“You like, right?” Geno asked, and unfurled herself a little, her arm moving away from her knees, revealing the thick shape of her cleavage in her animal print bra. The fabric was a little sheer, and a light gold color, and Sidney wanted to lean forward and lick over the spot where her mole peeked through. 

“Of course I like it,” Sidney said, and crawled forward, using her shoulders to spread Geno’s knees apart, shoving around until Geno leaned back and let Sidney drape on top of her, head pillowed on the soft swell of her abdomen. “I like it, uh–maybe I like it too much.”

She pressed a quick kiss to the dip of Geno’s navel, where there was still a small scar from her belly button ring, and then looked down at Geno’s underwear: black and lacy, splashed with gold glitter. It was garish and awful and Sidney loved it, the trimmed shape of her pubic hair peeking from the side, the way the straps cut into the fleshy part of her hips.

“I can show you how much,” Sidney said, brushing her fingers over the edge of the lace, her thumb pressed deliberately against Geno’s clit through the material. When she pulled her thumb back, it came away sticky.

Her own clit was probably equally so; she could feel herself leaking, the damp feeling of her briefs stuck between her folds. Under her, Geno twitched, and settled her legs open wide, and moaned a little, like she was pleased and hopeful of more.

“Welcome back surprise,” Geno had said, and Sidney could see why, now, the mismatched pieces and parts all a vague assembly of Black and Gold. When she moved her tongue along the front of the lace, over Geno’s clit and around the edge, the taste of her skin was just the right kind of familiar–and when she pushed them aside to slide her fingers inside, the choked sound that Geno made sounded just like home.


	6. Crossdressing - Sid/Geno/Anna

Anya had Zhenya spread out on the bed when Sid came back from the shower, his warm head pillowed in her lap. 

“G’morning,” Sid said, when he saw them awake, and then Anya watched as his eyebrows raised and his eyes scanned down the length of Zhenya’s body, his sleepy face, the bright red scar on the edge of his chin, the thick shape of his early morning hard-on, trapped in the soft cotton of a pair of underwear that Anya had pilfered from her own drawer. 

“What’s the occasion?” Sid asked, dropping his towel to the floor and hooking a hand around Zhenya’s outstretched ankle. There wasn’t one, but Anya had seen a couple of faded, old magazines, stashed in a box of paperwork she’d helped Sid leaf through one weekend. One had been dog-eared to a page that looked well loved: a man spread out on a rumpled set of bedsheets, come striped across his stomach, lace wrapped around his hips. 

The pair that she’d put Zhenya in wasn’t quite so extravagant, just a simple cotton thong, sporty and deep red with a wide white elastic at the top where Zhenya’s cock was trapped. She could admit that she’d never really thought about it before–a man wearing her underwear–but Sid liked it, seemingly, and she could indulge him. And Zhenya looked, well–he looked good–squirming around a little, laid out for them to admire. 

Anya particularly liked the view from up here, where she could see the head of Zhenya’s cock getting a little wet and shiny against the swell of his stomach. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” Sid said, and climbed onto the mattress, knees sinking into the bed. “But it certainly wasn’t what I–uh–expected.” Between his thighs, his soft dick was plumping up a little, and he looked a little dazed as he crawled towards them, shifting around on his hands and knees until he was settled between Zhenya’s widespread thighs. 

“Sid, I–” Anya explained, combing her hands through Zhenya’s hair, “I see you have book–and I think, well, maybe.” She gestured to Zhenya, who grew harder now under Sid’s keen eye, and then back up to where Sid’s cheeks were growing steadily more pink. 

“Well, I–” Sid said, and smiled, bashful, and she could see that he felt maybe a little embarrassed, but also clearly more than a little turned on. “I certainly–” He put a hand on Zhenya’s hip, then, and Anya heard Zhenya breathe in, sharp, and bite his lip as Sid’s hand roamed across the elastic and over the distended shape of Zhenya’s cock. 

“Sid,” Zhenya said, as Sid curled a hand around him for a moment, up and down and then on to continue his exploration, tucking his fingers under the edge. “You like?”

“I do,” Sid said, and bent down to kiss at Zhenya’s stomach, his bellybutton, across and then down to lay a kiss over the head of his cock–the same way that Anya had seen him do any number of times in bed with her, teasing her and indulging himself in equal measure. 

The room around them was a little warm still, from the damp heat of the shower, and Anya settled in and let herself melt into it, enjoying the view and her quiet morning with two men that she didn’t get to see nearly enough. She watched as Sid pushed the elastic waist down out of the way, and took Zhenya in hand at the base, and she smiled to herself as Zhenya clenched his fists in the duvet, squirming around until his head was pressed into her stomach. She could relate; she knew how that mouth felt.

“How about a peek at the back view,” Sid said, pulling off when Zhenya started thrusting his hips up in earnest, leaving Zhenya wet and hard and open-mouthed. “That’s the real prize, eh?” He slid a hand around to grip Zhenya’s bare ass, and looked at Anya, smiling wolfishly, delighted at his spoil of riches.

“Turn over,” she told Zhenya, patting his arm gently a few times. 

Sid was right to be curious; it was definitely the real prize.


	7. Hot Dogging - Sid/Geno

“Mmm?” Sid asked, words muffled where his face was smashed into the pillow.

Zhenya picked his head up and looked at him, his mouth open, the fat line of his nose turned to the side. “Shh,” Zhenya said, and kissed him, wet and messy, right over the small of his back. “Sleep, its fine.”

Zhenya didn’t mind if he slept the day away, all he wanted was to look his fill, delight in the sights and smells and sounds of Sid’s body. Sid’s plane had landed the night before, well after Zhenya’s bedtime, and he had come over here instead of to his own house and fallen into Zhenya’s bed instead of his own. Zhenya had woken up this morning drenched in sweat from the heat of Sid’s body next to him, his heavy limbs tossed lazily over Zhenya’s own, breathing hot air out onto Zhenya’s pillow.

Now he had Sid under him, pliant with sleep and naked, his legs spread out a little, the soft shape of his balls nestled between. Sid loved it when Zhenya sucked him awake, or rutted into his hip until they were grinding together with their eyes closed. 

“Fuck,” Zhenya said, mostly to himself, as he ran his hands down the strong line of Sid’s back, and followed his summer tan down until it faded away to the milk white skin of his ass. Zhenya gripped a cheek in each hand and just looked at it: his hands red and warm on the pale skin. “I miss you so much all summer,” he whispered, and looked at the tufty curl of Sid’s bedhead and the thick round of his ass and meant the platitude in every single way.

He hovered there too long with his hands cupping Sid’s hips, long enough that Sid picked his head up a little and asked, “You gonna stare at me all day?” Zhenya could see him smiling around the words, impatient but pleased. Maybe Zhenya could convince him to forgo their informal practice plans this afternoon and just languish in bed all day.

“Maybe I do,” Zhenya said, and smacked lightly at one cheek, watching it shake. “Have to look lots, think how this get so big.” He watched the small pink lines of his fingers bloom up and then disappear, and thought that maybe he wanted to leave a mark, but that was for another time.

Instead, he spread Sid’s cheeks with his hands and leaned down to rest his face between them, kissing wetly at his hole, drinking in the warm heat of Sid’s body.

“S'good,” Sid said, and shifted around a little, raising his ass to Zhenya’s mouth. Zhenya indulged him with another short kiss, and another longer one, and then sat up again, because he had a plan and this wasn’t it.

“Maybe later,” Zhenya said, and rolled the waistband of his shorts down enough for his cock to pop out, letting it bob against the top of Sid’s cheeks. He took himself in hand and shuffled forward enough that he could slot it right in-between, his cock nestled in the warm valley of Sid’s ass, the head visible where it was snug against Sid’s tailbone.

He thrust experimentally, hands anchored on either side of Sid’s hips, the waistband of his shorts digging into the meat of his ass. The slick spit left from his mouth felt good, warm and wet, easing the way.

“Fuck, Sid–” Zhenya said, because maybe the long summer had made him forget how good this felt, the thick muscle surrounding him, warm like a hug. “You mind I–”

“Eh, we’ll just jump in the shower,” Sid said, and smiled back at Zhenya and tilted his hips up invitingly, and Zhenya bent his head forward and moved in earnest, thrusting back and forth until he felt like he might burst, all of his arousal cramping up inside his belly until it spurted right out of his cock and onto Sid’s back.

“Shower later,” Zhenya said, slumped to the side with his legs draped across Sid’s ass, artfully avoiding the congealing puddle in the dip of his spine. Sid just laughed a little, short and small, and then louder, and the sound of it rippled right through Zhenya’s skin and straight to his mushy core.

“Maybe shower now,” he said, and muscled himself out of bed until he was just standing there in Zhenya’s eyeline, naked and half tan and a little sweaty, holding out his hand.


	8. Role Reversal - Sid/Geno

“We can, tonight–” Sid said, shirt caught half-off as he pulled it over his head. “If you want.” They didn’t have time or energy for more than a good hand or mouth most of the time, or maybe they would curl up together, rutting around like teenagers, dicks trapped between each others legs until they came. When they did have time to really get into it, well–Sid wasn’t going to say he was picky about taking it, but it usually took him a pretty long time to get off.

But he was feeling it tonight, and he had been since before the game, watching Geno tussling with Hags in the locker room in just his compression shorts, his dick wobbling around a little, out there for the world to see. It had been over a year since Sid had given himself permission to actively look, and still he wasn’t immune. 

“Yeah?” Geno asked, and came over and put his hands on Sid’s arms, dragging them down to rest on the waist of his jeans.

“I’ve been thinking about it pretty much all day,” Sid said, and smiled up at Geno and let Geno run his fingers under the waistband and tuck them into his underwear. “Had to stop myself from getting too into it in the showers, you know.”

“Sid,” Geno groaned, and twisted his face up in that way that Sid knew meant he was complaining for show and secretly pleased. He undid the button and zip on Sid’s jeans and shoved him backwards a little until Sid’s knees hit the edge of the mattress. “You lucky we home.”

Sid made his limbs loose and let himself be shoved down and shimmied out of his pants and underwear, dodging Geno’s limbs as Geno shucked his own shirt and climbed on after him, one hand supporting his weight, the other thick and warm on Sid’s hip. He looked down at Geno’s hand just inches from his dick and felt himself get harder under Geno’s eye, the knot inside his belly tangling up tighter.

He’d wanted Geno to turn him over and just go for it, he’d been thinking about it–in the bathroom at the rink, and in the car on the drive home, staring out the window at the passing streetlamps. But now he kind of wanted, well–maybe they could do it face to face, Geno’s breath wet and warm on his neck, their chests sweaty and sticking together. It was how they’d done it last week, Geno on his back, his skinny ankles hanging off of Sid’s shoulders, making much more noise than was acceptable for a late night hotel room fuck. 

Sid wanted that, the closeness. It was hard sometimes, to get off with someone inside him, the feeling still as big and as foreign as it had been at the start, but it was better with Geno’s eyes on his body, and his tongue in Sid’s mouth, his wrists brushing the caps of Sid’s shoulders as he thrust in and out.

“You ready?” Sid asked, running his hand up and down Geno’s arm. He guided Geno’s hand to his leaking dick, and pulled Geno down by the scruff of his neck until their noses were pressed together. In between their bodies, Geno’s chain was hanging down, swinging a little and tickling Sid’s neck.

“Maybe turn that thing around, eh,” Sid said, laughing a little, and brought their mouths together in a quick, wet kiss. 

“Maybe turn you around,” Geno said.

“Not tonight,” Sid said, and put both of his hands on Geno’s cheeks, scratching up through his damp hair, and lifted his hips up, rubbing his dick against the front of Geno’s pants. He looked at Geno’s face, every familiar inch. “Let’s just do it like this. I wanna see you.”

Geno ducked his head down for another kiss, long and sweet and wet, and when he lifted his head away, his eyes were still closed. “Okay,” he said, and locked a hand around one of Sid’s legs and tugged it up, and opened his eyes and smirked down at him. “Like this.”


	9. Nipple Play - Sid/Geno

“Fuck,” Sid said, as Zhenya’s hands ran up and down his sides and chest under his shirt. He swatted at Zhenya to stop. “C’mon, Geno, stop it.”

Zhenya moved his hands down, but not out, resting them on the swell around Sid’s belly button, bracketing him close between the cooler and the wall.

“You don’t like?” Zhenya asked, because Sid always gave him such mixed reactions when he touched his chest and they hadn’t gone very far yet, but Zhenya was sick of guessing. “You ticklish? What?”

Sid’s shoulders slumped inward, trying hard to be small. “I just, uh—“ Sid said. He put his hands on Zhenya’s wrists. It felt almost like they were holding hands; here in this momentary private space. “My, uh—nipples, they’re just really sensitive, you know?”

“Oh, well—” Zhenya said, and smiled down at him and wiggled his eyebrows a little, digging his fingers into the fleshy part of Sid’s sides. “You should tell me.” He had begun to think that maybe Sid just didn’t like being tickled, which hadn’t made literally any sense at all. Sid loved to be razzed, and prodded and poked at. Tanger had given Sid a wet willy at least once a week for probably the entire time that Zhenya had known him. 

But it wasn’t anything like that, just Sid being sweetly embarrassed about his sensitive nipples, as if it was a curse and not a terribly enticing perk. One that Zhenya planned to take full advantage of.

Zhenya let his hands wander back up under Sid’s shirt, slow and steady while he watched Sid’s face for signs of rejection, like they were playing some weird game of chicken.

“Sore,” Sid said, when Zhenya cupped his palms around Sid’s ribs. “You can, uh, keep going–it’s fine.” He relaxed his shoulders a little, sinking back into the wall, his body open for Zhenya to admire, and Zhenya pushed his shirt up, all the way to his armpits, leaving the soft black cotton framing his chest and his necklace hanging loosely out of the collar. 

The flushed skin of Sid’s cheeks was spread all the way down his face and neck, blooming across his chest, framed by his nipples, oblong and puffy and dark at the center, the same rich pink as his mouth. Zhenya brought his hands up and pinched, taking each nipple in between his thumb and forefinger and tweaking it a little, testing it out. 

“Fuck—“ Sid said, gnawing a hole in his lower lip, turning his face to the side, his eyes scrunched up and smiling, in that stupid way that Zhenya loved so much. “We gotta stop soon—anyone could—“

Zhenya was well aware of where they were, sequestered in some storage bay a few minutes walk from the locker room, not entirely out in the open, but enough. It certainly hadn’t been the plan to hide away like horny teenagers, sneaking around in between video meetings like they were kids in one of the high school comedies that Zhenya had watched in English years ago and hardly understood.

But Sid had lifted his eyebrows at Zhenya over Rusty’s head in the video room and Zhenya had trotted after him like the sucker he always was, watching the thick sway of Sid’s ass in his track pants, following him back here and kissing and kissing him, his hands all over.

“Quick, c’mon,” Sid said, and Zhenya pinched again and listened to Sid groan and put his mouth on Sid’s cheek and then his mouth, his neck, his sternum, down and across until he was mouthing softly at the curve of Sid’s pec.

“Quick,” Zhenya said, and blew a sharp stream of cold air out over Sid’s nipple and watched it pebble, delighted. He looked up at where Sid was looking down on him and smirked and dropped his mouth open, hovering over where he knew Sid wanted it, now. “Just little.”


	10. Lapdance - Sid/Geno

At first, Zhenya thought it was kind of a joke. He was drunk and beyond tired and covered in a healthy amount of pool water and beer and when Max grabbed him by both of his elbows and shoved him into a chair in the middle of the room, he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Another award for Mr. Conn Smythe, eh, buddy!” Max slurred, smacking him a couple times on the shoulder, his breath warm and pungent on Zhenya’s neck. “Just sit real tight.”

Zhenya kept sitting there–not at all because Max told him to, but because he was at least five beers in and the room was spinning a little. He’d been nothing less than tipsy for at least three days. Maybe he was floating through life at this point, maybe he was dreaming.

He definitely thought he was dreaming when Max came back downstairs with Sid, holding him out in front of his body the same way he had with Zhenya. Sid was pink all over his face, flushed like he was embarrassed, and his hat was twisted off center, backwards at some weird angle, dark wet curls creeping out. He had a beer in his hand, mostly full, the bottle sweating all down his fist. Zhenya rolled his shoulders around and moved his arms, a little worried that maybe he was sweating the same way.

“Hi,” Sid said, when he got close. He raised his hand and gave Zhenya an incredibly dorky wave, his smile crooked and filled with too-big teeth.

“Hi,” Zhenya said, and then Max came up behind him and planted his hands on Zhenya’s shoulders and leaned in, suffocatingly close to Zhenya’s ear.

“I heard this little bird outside telling someone he wanted to thank you for your services,” Max said. “Good ol’ thank you from the captain, eh?” Zhenya turned his head to the side and watched Max watching Sid, who looked like he wasn’t really certain he was on board with whatever it was they were up to. He was fidgeting, and looking around the room at the dark wood panels and the few teammates scattered around a table playing pong. When his eyes got to Zhenya, he ran them down the length of Zhenya’s body and then skittered them away, raising his beer to his mouth to take a long, wet drink.

Zhenya felt hot all over, from the beer and from Sid’s gaze and from Max’s sweaty handprint on his shoulder. Somewhere off to the side, Max was fiddling with the stereo, flipping it between songs over and over until it all twisted up in Zhenya’s head.

“The fuck, Talbo?” Staalsy yelled, tossing a pong ball across the room until it plunked Max in the arm. “I was listening to that.”

“Shit aim, bud,” Max said, and settled on a song, something Zhenya didn’t really know, the words undecipherable English gibberish, the beat deep and pulsing. He turned it up a little, enough that Zhenya couldn’t hear the conversation on the other side of the room.

“You didn’t need to–” Sid said, and opened and closed his mouth a few times, brow furrowed like he didn’t know the right words to use. “I was kidding.”

“Didn’t sound like kidding to me, kid,” Max said, and came over and pulled the bottle from Sid’s grip and took a long swig. “Better pony up. You know he deserves it.” He nodded at Zhenya, who was sweating and prickly all over and gripping the chair.

Zhenya squirmed around and watched Sid take a deep breath, like he was preparing himself for–something, and then step close enough that their knees knocked. Up close, Sid smelled heavily of chlorine, his forearms tan from the sun, his face and neck deep red with embarrassment. 

“You ever get a lapdance, buddy?” Max asked, shouting a little over the weird beat of the music, leaning back with his arms crossed, a big, wicked grin on his face. Zhenya barely had time to process the whole sentence inside his head before Sid was swinging a leg over his lap and sitting down, hovering a little awkwardly over Zhenya’s thighs.

“You supposed to–” Zhenya said, and flexed his hands, unsure of where to put them. Was he supposed to not touch Sid at all? He’d never had a lapdance before, only a handful of girlfriends who’d messed around with him and he was supposed to touch them, that was the whole point. Did Sid want to be touched? “You dance?”

Sid laughed a little, and put his hands on Zhenya’s shoulders and settled down a little, moving his hips awkwardly, less dancing and more just–shifting them around off-beat. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, not that it stopped Zhenya from liking it. “You played so fucking good, Geno,” Sid said, as he moved himself around in Zhenya’s lap. The song was somehow still playing; maybe Max had put it on repeat. 

Zhenya flushed at Sid’s words, and the warm closeness of his body. He raised his hands up and let them skim Sid’s waist, hovering and not touching, and he tried not to think of the guys on the other side of the room, playing games and hopefully not laughing at them. “Thanks,” he said.

“Weak moves, bud,” Max said, tossing a pong ball in their direction from somewhere. Sid looked over and said something to him, but Zhenya couldn’t look away from Sid’s shirt, damp under the arms, or his necklace swinging around outside his collar. He didn’t dare look down at his lap, where he knew he was getting hard.

“You can touch me, you know,” Sid said, and pressed forward a little, rolling his body inexpertly, like it was something he’d seen someone do once. Zhenya put his hands in the soft crease of Sid’s hip looked at Sid’s drunk, blown open expression and dragged him in a little more, until their groins brushed.

“Bad dancer,” he said, and smiled up at Sid and twitched at the brush of Sid’s cargo shorts against his dick. 

“Oh yeah?” Sid scratched at the back of his neck, and then put the same hand on Zhenya’s neck, his palm clammy. “I think you like it, eh?” He sat fully down on Zhenya’s clearly fucking obvious hard-on and Zhenya had to close his eyes because he liked it way too much, and everyone was probably watching them now, and what at all even was his life that this was happening.

“Yeah,” he said, and slid his hands around to cup Sid’s ass, his heart jack-hammering inside his chest. “I do.”


End file.
